


Café of Love

by eternal_optimist



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baristas, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 21:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_optimist/pseuds/eternal_optimist
Summary: “We’re both baristas and sometimes I have trouble reaching for things and I show up to work one day to find a personalized stool with hearts and my name on it i hATE YOU but also thanks" - Nessian au





	Café of Love

Nesta hated her job. Hated it. Hated it with a passion that could burn a thousand suns and fire that would heat all the coffee beans better than the most efficient coffeemaker could possibly do.

If it was up to her she’d quit as fast as she could, but she needed the substantial amount of money it offered her, not to mention it was a simple enough of an affair. If it weren’t for some issues.

The bell above the door jingled as she made her way inside the cosy café and she sighed preparing herself for another wonderful day of endless espresso serving and going home with sore arms.

Feyre would tease her about how all heroes have wounds, mirth dancing in her eyes, and Elain would fuss over her quietly in a manner she had yet to understand, all the while she’d insist that she was okay, it was just some stupid inconvenience. And she was totally fine, of course, because she was Nesta Archeron and she wasn’t going to let some problems of height bother her, goddamit.

A quick glance around the place confirmed the lack of people. Which was, quite honestly, a relief. One could never have enough alone time.

She put her bag in a corner, taking her headphones out and blasting the music as she worked in silence, setting up the tables for the first customers who will turn up sharply at eight.

By seven and half, her work was done making her sigh in contentment. Some peace and quiet moments doing absolutely nothing before customers rushed in, sounded like the most delightful idea.

Except good moments never lasted for long and soon the place was filled with swarms of people and it quickly turned into the familiar busy shop it had always been. Alis greeted her as she entered, eyebrows raised in amusement as she spotted the stressed look on her face, notebook with the orders written inside in hand.

“I’ll take over.”

Relief flooding her, Nesta handed her the notebook all but flashing to the backroom.

Her apron tied neatly into a perfect bow by the straps, she began to prepare the drinks the customers ordered, groaning as she realized the espresso beans she needed were on the top shelf. As in the one that she couldn’t reach without the help of a chair and had she mentioned that she loathed her life because she absolutely did.

Yelping as her foot hit something hard, she looked down to see some sort of stool beside her leg and how did she not notice it when she entered, she had no idea.

Nesta bended to take a closer look. The wooden piece had ribbons tied around its legs, various deep colors that blended elegantly. And on the top there was a large N drawn in the center with little heart shaped carvings scattered around it.

* * *

It was some days after she discovered her very surprising though admittedly very thoughtful gift and although she didn’t breathe a word about it not to Feyre or Elain or even Alis. It kept nagging at her, her desire to find out who bought it almost unbearable.

Obviously, someone from the staff, that much was clear still who could it be? She wasn’t exactly the most loved person in the café and Alis was the only one whom she tolerated enough to interact with on a daily basis.

Breathing deeply, she blew away the strand of her hair that kept falling from her bobby pin, heading for the storeroom.

“You haven’t even told her, yet?”

A male sigh echoed through the room. “No, Mor.”

A brief period of silence settled between the two, and she felt her curiosity grew as she recognized the chirp lilt of Morrigan’s voice and Cassian.

Her enemy slash fellow colleague slash barb trader slash sort of attractive friend of her sister’s boyfriend who wasn’t at all that attractive. Much.

“Goodness, should I come and personally drag you to her?”

He groaned, irritation thick in his tone. “Mor.”

“Hey, you try listening to yourself for the past two hours and then we’ll talk.”

A biting edge accompanied Cassian’s next words “I didn’t call you to be mocked.”

She heard Morrigan sigh, exasperation breaking through her usually cheerful demeanor and okay maybe she should be off doing something, anything except eavesdropping but sounded like too much of good blackmail material for her to simply walk away. “I’m not mocking you simply trying to help. Only you’re much too stubborn to recognize that.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Cassian, you’ve had crush on Nesta for the past two years, you desperately need help.”

Nesta felt her eyes widening to a concerning degree at Mor’s blatant declaration, grasping the door’s handle tightly in disbelief.

“There are no crushes of any kind involved,” Cassian said, embarrassed.

“Yes and the little gift you left her is uttermost proof of that,” Mor retorted. “You know what my friend, I’m tired and going to sleep so if you don’t mind, I’ll be off doing so.”

With a click the call ended and Nesta felt the breath she held release, the shock not quite dimming as she swallowed. Cassian who she fought with more times than she could count had taken the time to bring her - no make it looked like it was made - something that helped her. Cassian whom she denied any sort of attraction for, have harbored an infatuation for her almost as long as they’d known each other.

She didn’t know what particular feeling dominated that line of thought.

Hesitantly, she stood in front of the entrance, watching as the man in question closed his eyes and sighed before tensing. His eyes locked with hers and for a moment she saw a tinge of fright in his eyes but he hid it neatly behind his usual arrogant, teasing attitude.

“Good morning, Nesta, darli-”

“Thank you,” she cut him before he could say anything else. (She’d get swept in the conversation and then never say those words and he needed to hear them, she needed to tell him.)

Nervous beyond what she deemed appropriate, she turned on her heels, forcibly calm.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it.


End file.
